#ive fucking had it. yes billionaires should die.

[isopodhours]

because like. using carbon fiber was such an obviously bad idea. like its fucking fiber. its strands of carbon woven into a fabric. a common method of making it is to just burn rayon. insanely high tensile strength, literally zero compressive strength. all the stiffness of a carbon fiber material comes from whatever its in a composite with which usually means polymer resins. that submarine was relying on a cylinder of plastic with a bunch of shit mixed in to stand up to the pressure ¾ of a mile underwater. the actual carbon was contributing nothing. Billionaire Playboy Hamfisted McMetaphor and his plastic toy submersible was basically asking to die. its like he thought these proven engineering principles and safety regulations were nothing more than some sort of arbitrary etiquette. nobody builds deep sea pressure vessels out of carbon fiber because its the engineering equivalent of putting your elbows on the table. you gotta put a black box in your submarine because its rude not to. well hes not afraid to be impolite. what possible problem could there be, its carbon fiber, its so strong. and it looks cool. obviously hell be fine, hes a billionaire, someone took care of that for him. and people who think like that run the world. the entire global economy is a carbon fiber submarine, and I, for one, will relish watching the billionaires get crushed as the world implodes on all of us. look around you and tell me they dont deserve it.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳

-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol

-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)

-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO

-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)

-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)

-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings

-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?

-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.

-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK

-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom

-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.

-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)

-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!

-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH

*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!

-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN

-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!

-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET

-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)

-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later

-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!

-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭

-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again

-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe

-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.

-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this

-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.

-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!

-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH

-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)

-'billy fenton'.......................

-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.

-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.

-this is the most screenshot of all time

-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.

-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.

-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.

-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy

-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(

-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....

-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...

-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D

-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN

-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.

-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)

-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god

-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...

-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...

-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs

-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!

-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.

-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.

-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.

-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.

almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!

[lyssismagical]

Thought you were human but you're just a ghost, a shield of skin and bone

Febuwhump Day 17 & 18 – Mind Games & Revealed Secret

Read on AO3

*

Peter’s shoulders tense, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Mister Stark-”

“No!” Tony shouts, slamming his fist down on the edge of the roof. “This is where you zip it. You are not going after the Vulture. Ever. You hear me?”

Peter tries his best to hide his flinch, guilt and self-loathing rushing over him. He failed. Again.

“Mister Stark, please-”

Tony grabs the front of Peter’s stupid I Survived My Trip To NYC t-shirt, crumpling the fabric in his grip.

“If you disobey my direct orders again, I’ll do something more drastic than take your suit, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter chokes out, blinking back the tears that fill his eyes.

Tony lets go of him, smirking when Peter stumbles back a few steps. “Good. Now get out of here. And if I hear that you’ve been snooping around in The Vulture’s business again…”

The threat is heard without being said.

“Yes, sir.”

Peter tries to keep his pace as even as he can as he walks away from Tony, heading towards the door.

What Peter doesn’t see as the door closes behind him and he begins his trek back to his apartment, is the flickering holograms and Tony’s face morphing into Beck’s pleased sneer.

* “I shouldn’t have met him,” Peter says, face crumpling when he finally gets May to stop panicking. It’s a poor explanation but she can’t know he’s Spider-Man. “Meeting your heroes is never as good as you think it’ll be.”

May’s eyes harden briefly, probably preparing herself to chew Tony out for hurting her nephew, but then she watches her kid’s bottom lip tremble as he sits on the couch, shoulders dropping, and her expression softens.

“Whatever he said to you, he’s wrong,” she says, gently carding her fingers through Peter’s curls and rubbing his back. He leans his head up against his stomach, tears slipping down his face. “You’re the best kid I know, baby, and he’s an asshole for hurting you.”

“It’s just- I thought I was doing good, I was trying so hard, and I just- He- I just wanted to do something right and he shouted at me.”

May sighs softly. “You don’t need him, okay? You didn’t deserve that and if I ever see him again, I’ll make sure to give him a piece of my mind.”

That gets Peter to laugh quietly. “Yeah, sure, but I doubt we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”

Fingers gentle and careful on his jaw, May lifts his head up to look down at him, thumb running underneath his eyes to catch the tears that fall, and she presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t you go believing Stark that you’re not enough, okay? You don’t need to change a single thing about you for some billionaire asshole’s opinion of you… Well, I could do with you not sneaking out or skipping school, but you know, we can’t have everything, can we?”

Peter doesn’t tell her that because he’s lost the suit, he doesn’t have a reason to sneak out or skip school anymore. He doesn’t tell her that Tony’s been his hero since he was five and Iron Man saved him at the Stark Expo, that he’s been idolizing the hero for even longer. He doesn’t tell her that the words have already sunk into his chest and wrapped around his lungs, planting themselves deep within him.

He doesn’t tell her any of that.

Instead, he settles for a quiet. “I love you, May.”

“Love you too, kiddo. Now, go take a shower and get your homework done. You smell like garbage.”

He laughs quietly and pushes himself. “I know. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, baby. Please get some rest.”

* Homecoming night came faster than imaginable and Peter was happy for the first time in months.

Meeting Tony certainly wasn’t high on his Worst Experiences, but after his uncle, Tony turning out to be cruel and aggressive had Peter’s mental health declining at a steady rate.

But now it’s homecoming and May’s helped him get his tie on straight, and Ben’s old suit jacket is a little too big on his shoulders, and the corsage he bought for Liz is a little bit droopy, but he’s happy.

Her mom is nice and offers to drive them to school, full of kind smiles and teasing jokes. Liz’s father died a few years prior and it’s obvious how much they miss him, but Peter doesn’t bother to make any condolences. He knows how little it means to grieving families.

Before he knows it, he’s in the gym of their school, dancing with Liz and MJ and Ned, rolling his eyes when Flash flips them off from across the room.

It’s good. It’s fun.

Peter doesn’t even miss being Spider-Man right now. It’s relieving to just hang out with his friends like a regular high school student.

Until, of course, his phone rings.

“Mister Stark?” Peter asks, ducking into the hallway for some privacy. “What do you want?”

“I know I told you to stay away from The Vulture, but I need your help,” he says. “I’ll text you the address.”

Anger swells within Peter’s chest where the insecurities are buried. “You want me to drop everything for you when you’ve done jackshit for me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tony says like it’s obvious. “You can pretend to be the hero that you think you are, but I’ve got a lot of leverage here. I know your identity, Parker. I know your friends and family, and I know which villains and criminals want that information.”

“Are you… Are you blackmailing me?”

Tony just laughs, a cold harsh noise that makes the hurt in Peter’s chest swell and seize his lungs. “I’ll text you the address, Parker. You better be there.”

The phone beeps, signaling the end of the call, just as Ned turns the corner.

“Hey, man, you good?”

Peter swallows thickly, turning to his best friend, knowing the pain is shining in his eyes. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait, what? I thought-”

“Cover for me, please. I’ll- I’ll text you when I can.” Peter doesn’t give Ned the time to say no, he turns and jogs down the hallway, pulling up the section of lockers to snap his webshooters around his wrists and grab his mask.

“Peter, wait!” Ned calls.

Peter doesn’t let himself turn, doesn’t let himself face Ned. Tony is blackmailing him, and if things go wrong, Ned will be one of the people in the crossfire.

“Tell Liz I’m sorry.”

As soon as he’s clear of the school, he webs himself as fast as he can in the direction of the address Tony sent him, ignoring the panic that grips his lungs and the fear that settles in the pit of his stomach. He focuses on swinging.

And before he knows it, he’s reaching an abandoned warehouse outside the city.

“Hello?” he calls out, creeping down the staircase.

The stairway opens up into a big room where Tony’s waiting for him, leaning back against a table.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says, a grin stretching across his face.

Peter swallows thickly, stopping in his tracks. “Where’s The Vulture? What do you want?”

“Oh, kid, how naïve and stupid,” Tony spits, leaning back with a cold laugh. “There never was a Vulture. Or I guess, I suppose there was, but he was hiding in plain sight.”

Tony stretches his arms out and second later, the vulture wings are sliding across his back. He grins at Peter, rolling his eyes.

“You’re- How could you-” The breath catches in Peter’s lungs and he can’t breathe. The man across from him, his childhood hero, was the villain Peter was chasing all along.

“I can’t believe I fooled you for so long, Peter. How else do you think I got all that alien tech? It was right there at my disposal? I’m a war profiteer, I always have been. I’m not the hero you thought I was, but at least I’m more of a hero than you. You couldn’t even catch me when I was right there in front of you.”

Peter takes an involuntary step back, trying not to make it obvious that tears are filling his eyes behind his mask. He gasps for breath, panic engulfing his lungs like a wildfire.

Tony waves his hands and the wings are pulling off his back, facing Peter. “And now, you’re going to die for being stupid enough to ever think you could be a hero.”

* Sobs wrack his body as he stumbles through the sand towards the deserted road ahead.

Tony’s webbed to a few of the crates behind him. He tried to change the course of a plane flying from the Avengers Compound filled with Alien tech and other dangerous equipment, to Stark Towers instead. Peter managed to crash the plane on Coney Island.

But now what?

The only person who knows he’s Spider-Man is Ned, and Tony’s threats are still echoing in his head. The Avengers are away, the perfect time for Tony to strike, Peter supposes.

He has nobody to turn to and he’s so fucking tired.

He’s in the sand before he even realizes his knees had buckled, and he coughs, blood splattering in the sand. The warehouse dropping on him flashes through his head, a cry of pain escaping his throat.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

His phone is shattered, his mask is missing, he’s out of web fluid, he can’t breathe. Everything hurts.

The last thing he’s aware of before his vision gives out is somebody stumbling through the sand towards him.

* He jerks awake, his nightmares of Tony grabbing his shirt, telling him he’d never be a hero, the warehouse falling on top of him, the plane crashing into the sand, the fires, the vulture claws ripping him into him, playing out in his head over and over again.

“Hey, hey, hey, relax, Spider-Boy.”

He knows that voice.

Shoving himself backwards, he tears the IV from his skin, wild eyes locking onto Tony. He’s sitting in the chair beside Peter, relaxing nonchalantly like nothing had ever happened between them.

“No, no, no, please,” Peter begs, trying to get his feet on the ground but his legs won’t cooperate like they should, a haziness settling on his mind. Tony probably drugged him, shit.

“Woah!” Tony says, lifting his hands, palms up in surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you, kid.”

“You tried to kill me, more than once,” Peter says, gasping for air. Tears are blurring his vision and his hands won’t stop shaking. “Please just- just don’t hurt my family. Please- I-”

Tony’s face falls into something that Peter would’ve thought was confusion if not for the fact that there was nothing to be confused about.

“I’ve been on an undercover Avenger’s mission for the past nine months, kid. We just got back last night. We were staking out a whole bunch of Hydra bases across Europe,” Tony explains slowly. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth is set in a frown. “There was nobody at the crime scene last night but you.”

“You think I did it?” Peter asks, jaw dropping. “After everything you did to me, you think I’m just going to believe you? Just like that?”

They’re in a hospital room. Heart monitor flat behind Peter now that he’s pulled off the tracking pads. His ribs are aching, chest on fire, but he still sits up defiantly, glaring at Tony.

“Honest to god, kid, this is the first time I’m meeting you. I wasn’t allowed any internet while on our mission just in case Hydra could track it, so I’ve barely had the time to look you up.”

Peter tries to stifle the sob, but it still rips its way out of his throat, tears falling steadily after it. “If it wasn’t you, then who was with me? Who looked like you, talked like you, pretended to be you for nine months?”

“Fri?” Tony asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“Compiling all video footage with Peter Parker or Spider-Man facial recognition since September of last year,” Friday replies.

A hologram appears in front of them, as Peter draws his knees up to his chest and tries unsuccessfully to get his tears to slow.

There’s a bunch of boring, staticky security camera footage of Peter walking to and from school, of Peter getting a snack at Delmar’s, or of Spider-Man stopping petty criminals, of Spider-Man leaping from building to building.

And then it arrives to Tony picking him up afterschool.

It’s a far away shot, probably one of the school’s security cameras of the parking lot. Tony’s leaning up against a fancy car, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hi, Mister Stark. What are you doing here?” Peter says, offering a timid smile.

“Came to give my favourite young adult a ride home. I got you something, actually. If you really want to pretend to be a superhero, you need a suit, don’t you? It’s in the back, take a look.”

Peter turns to glance at Tony, who’s eyes are surprisingly wide, jaw dropped. “That wasn’t me.”

“I know you think I’m some naïve little kid who doesn’t know anything, but I’m not an idiot,” Peter says.

“No, kid, I swear, that wasn’t me. I was in Europe, without internet, taking down Hydra bases at the time.”

Tony speeds through a bunch more videos until they get to the day of the ferry. The video feed is staticky and the audio is echoing, but it’s obvious enough what’s happening. Video Tony’s hand is grabbing Video Peter’s t-shirt, spitting threats in his face even as Peter tries not to cry.

“If you disobey my direct orders again, I’ll do something more drastic than take your suit, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get out of here. And if I hear that you’ve been snooping around in The Vulture’s business again…”

The video continues though as Video Peter disappears down the staircase, metal door slamming shut behind him.

And then Video Tony flickers. Flickers.

“Holy shit, wait, Fri, pause it.”

The man standing where Tony once was in the video is not Tony at all. He has longer hair than Tony and a full beard, a smile spreading across his face.

“Facial recognition, Fri,” Tony instructs, sitting up in his chair.

Peter doesn’t care though. He doesn’t care who the man really is, doesn’t care how he managed to look like Tony, what kind of motive he had. He doesn’t care.

He tucks his legs up to his chest, hiding his face in his face in his knees, and lets out a pitiful whimper.

“Quentin Beck, fired from Stark Industries five years ago for aggressive behavior, helped in the creation of BARF.”

“Holy fuck,” Tony breathes. “Kid?” And then his hand is tentatively on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter flinches, drawing in a shaking breath. “I can’t believe I was so stupid! Nine fucking months and he- he-”

“That’s not on you, kid. Anyone could’ve fallen for tech that good, I mean, it’s mine. I just don’t understand why?”

Peter lifts his head. “He wanted tech. Alien tech to make weapons. What better way than to pretend to be you? He had access to your tower, he was taking a plane from Avengers Compound and was going to redirect it here. He was using your labs, your technology.”

“But why you?”

“I was getting in his way,” Peter explains, shrugging and ignoring the spike of pain it brings. “I was going after this criminal. This guy everyone was calling The Vulture. That’s when you showed up, or I guess, when Beck showed up. He kept telling me to leave it alone. Until yesterday.”

Tony runs a hand through his hair, further messing it up. “He tried to kill you?”

“He called me when I was at homecoming… Told me he had a lead. Guess he knew you were coming back and needed to tie up loose ends.”

The silence that follows is thick and tense, nobody says a word, staring at Beck’s smiling image frozen on the screen.

Finally, “I’m really sorry, kid.”

Peter shrugs, trying his best to swallow all of the emotions that threaten to spill out. “How do I know you’re real and not just another hologram?”

A frown crosses Tony’s face. He doesn’t seem to have a good answer, but Friday speaks up instead.

“Inventory showed Beck only stole four projectors from R&D after he was fired. All four projectors were found on Coney Island with the plane debris, destroyed beyond repair. No other projectors have been removed from storage.”

All of the energy leaves Peter’s body in one big rush. He offers Tony a smile, one he knows is weary and painful. “Hey, Mister Stark, I’m Peter Parker. AKA Spider-Man.”

Tony catches on easily. “Hi, kid. Nice to meet you.”

“Could I borrow a phone?” Peter asks. He’s sure Ned’s covered for him with May, but he can’t even imagine how worried Ned must be.

“Yeah, of course. And, uh, kid?” Tony says, voice dropping to a tentative murmur. “You wanna, I don’t know, work with me in the lab sometime? I could get a new suit fixed up for you and you could show me how you make that webbing of yours?”

Peter half-smiles, trying to shove down all of the panic and worry and fear that threatens to engulf him. His brain is having a hard time understanding everything. He thought Beck was Tony for nine months. Tony tried to kill him, except it wasn’t actually Tony.

But now Tony’s sitting across from him, a kind smile on his face like it isn’t the same face that sneered and yelled and dropped a warehouse down on him.

It wouldn’t be fair to blame the real Tony for things Beck did as Tony.

“Yeah, sure, sounds cool, Mister Stark.”

* (Years later, kidnapped by Nick Fury on his European vacation, he sees through “Mysterio’s” disguise within seconds, recognizing the technology for what it is, knowing Beck’s face like the back of his hand, the same face that plagues his nightmares. It only takes a few days to get Beck behind bars with Tony’s help, his vacation back to normal before anyone notices anything is wrong. But Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever forgot Beck’s face and what the villain put him through. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop seeing Beck’s version of Tony every time he looks at His Tony. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop looking over his shoulder, just in case the things around him are all an illusion. He doesn’t think Beck will ever disappear from his head.)

[polygamyff]

25. Part 4

I feel all sad, nobody is here and I am having to eat hospital food. Not even stupid Malik came to see me, and where is Shawn. I would have been there for all of that and that what hurts, I am actually awake so early too, well it’s this place. They are constantly doing shit to me, I can’t sleep or rest. I just want to be out of here, I am wondering where Shawn is now. Why is nobody here but my family said they was all here to watch me die, this is terrible. My life is terrible, least I got to see Reign. It’s kind of amazing how I made that, I can actually make beautiful ass babies and I am proud “morning” I groaned out, that voice “what is it now? I am sick of the IV, how many times you want me to pee?” I am beginning to become annoyed at this shit “soon, maybe in the afternoon. Once Domonik as seen you, also we need to make sure we get rid of the bad blood too” sighing out “ok” I mumbled “so we just need to give you some tablets, the tablet you should have been having” well this teaches me “you seem very sad today, you’re usually in the mood to annoy people” I shrugged “just nobody is here, I thought my best friend would be here but he’s not. My family are still angry with me so now I am on my own bored” which I am “there is a lot of family here for you though, we banned them. There was a lot of fighting going on, it got to a point where we said no so that could be the reason why nobody is here” I guess but it’s still bullshit, how you not going to see me when I am awake.

I have no mobile phone, just these walls and I refuse to think of things right now “Marquis’ boy, you look better than your father but then again he has a bodyguard outside his door, saw him from the window” looking up from my hands, when I asked for people to come I didn’t want him “Hakim” I said feeling very irritated already “I didn’t bring your wife, we need to talk without her around” staring ahead of me and not at Naomi’ dad, why is god like this and now I am stuck on this bed “son in law” staring at his hand, holding my hand up and and shaking his “I am glad you’re alive, Davenport hotels could never last without you” he sat down, made himself comfortable “did my daughter come? She was here” shaking my head “didn’t see her at all” which is true “lots have happened while you was not around, things I have heard and seen. You know, I could kill you right now. I could even get someone to kill you” mean mugging him “I wasn’t around so why kill me?” I said all confused “because, the world knows my only child is infertile, now I know it’s been one your people. You have a child with another woman, oh I have seen her. I have seen it all” scratching my forehead “your daughter being infertile is not my fault, you all lied to me. I just did what I needed to do” Hakim laughed “I did nothing, how am I supposed to know my daughter can’t have kids? The contract wasn’t just for you to have kids, how about making vows about actually taking care of her” shaking my head “I was high when I said those, why don’t you leave me alone and take care of your daughter. All she wants is love, she is scared of you” he sniggered “she is useless, I die, then she dies. We have nobody to take over the business, useless right? But you bought shame on my family, made us stupid. Whatever me and your dad have is gone, you will divorce my daughter and you will pay her a good amount or I will come for you and your little family. I know where they all live. Can’t hide now can you” Hakim got up from his chair “may the best man win” I said to him, I won’t go down.

Placing Reign on my bed “thank you mom” she helped me with bathing Reign, I got the hang of it now so I am proud of myself. These are the things I should be doing anyways but couldn’t, I was bust at the hospital with Maurice “it’s ok baby, she loved it. Not a single tear” my mom touched Reign’ cheek, smiling down at Reign “she has such long eyelashes, such a pretty little thing. Can’t wait to get back to normal, to get back home. Lose this weight and just be back to normal with things” my mom passed me the diaper “you didn’t say, how did it go when he saw her? We fell asleep so we didn’t know what time you both came back” my daughter is just staring around, ever so quiet “you know, I realise something. She is so much more at ease when you are around, she didn’t cry all night?” shaking my head “but I did have her in bed with me, she cried once but then slept well but yeah. Maurice was happy, I saw him, the man I love. He was crying, he saw what he could have lose, he was so close to losing the moment with her. She didn’t cry which was good, she was just staring at him. Probably thinking where the hell have you been, my heart felt so full watching them together, the way she looked at him. She loves him so much, he fed her the bottle. He was showing emotion, you was right mom” my mom smiled at me “see, look at her. She was made from love, you told me” my mom is right.

I am such a proud mother, I didn’t think I would taken to parenthood like this. I got pregnant and the pregnancy was not the best but my bond with my daughter means everything, just everything about her. She makes me happy, I am at peace with her “the best gift daddy gave me is you, and you give me the best cuddles. You do, but I think you’re going to have daddy’ eyes which is not a bad thing, you got to have something of him” I giggled, Reign upper lip flinched up, like her attempt to mimic me “you trying to smile for me?” Pressing a kiss to her cheek “can’t wait until daddy is showing you so much love, he wants all these cuddles too” my dad sighed out as he sat “I’m going to be sad when she goes Robyn, who is going to keep me company?” Khaleesi walked in after “get a dog” my bright idea “she is a good dog you know” shaking my head “you’re not having her dad, sorry. She is mine but I do think you both should get a dog” Khaleesi jumped up on the couch “don’t you start wanting some attention, Reign has got all of my attention girl” she is trying to figure out how to lay on my lap and find space “sorry girl, my daughter got this space” Khaleesi whined out, I need to give her some hugs.

My mom took Reign from me so she could put her in the crib, which knowing her she will wake up and not like being put down “when are you planning to go back to work anyways?” I asked my dad, he actually took time off for this “Wednesday, I have to go back in. Hopefully Maurice should be back by then, was he ok last night?” my parents are always cute asking about him “he is ok, he cried holding Reign. That is all I wanted, to see he was still there and he was. I am going to see him today, see if I can just speak to him. He did say he wanted to speak to me too” unlocking my phone “that is good, he is used to not showing emotions. I remember that” Damon is checking up on me, bless him “yes I know dad” I have so many messages but I don’t answer them anymore, if you my parents I do but forget my nosey ass family “on today show on Access, an update on the billionaires Marquis and Maurice Davenport and what else we know about the Davenport family” my mouth fell open “oh wow” my dad said “this has to be a joke right? Why is he even on this, I don’t get it” this is trash “if they mention my daughter I will sue them myself” dropping my phone to the floor, what is this mess.

“Maurice Davenport, heir to the Davenport empire stunned the world when he was taken into hospital for an on going illness he has since he was a child, his father Marquis thought thought to have had an heart attack when he knew of son being on that bed, Scott what is the latest” I don’t find this amusing one bit “he is well and fine, speaking to his father in law Hakim, and this what he had to say about the situation” everyone is selling out Maurice, he doesn’t even know it “how is Maurice right now?” he is walking out of the hospital “he is fine, he will be out in no time” placing my hand over my face, this is a mess. The camera switched back to the studio “what do we know about him Scott? How has he made it onto the ladder of being known to us” a video played on the screen and it looks like he was high as fuck walking with a whole bunch of people “he became a socialite with his dad’ money, moved to the Hollywood hills. He is friend with the likes of Beyonce and Jay z, his celebrity friends have all passed on their thoughts of him but it’s not just him becoming a socialite that made him well known, it was his habit of his drug use. Which then made him not worthy of the title, it was then his dad took over his life. He is a changed man now, I have met him once. He is very sociable and I wish him the best” they haven’t mentioned anything else “but he is a polygamist, he has a wife and another female. He left his wife because she couldn’t give him kids, that is just cruel” I am in shock right now “he does have a daughter, which was born beginning of this month in a private hospital, from what we know of her she is just a regular girl that lives in Anaheim. We did try and catch up with her” covering my face, that was only just last night “they was going to see him, he has hired her a bodyguard so things are pretty serious with them both. He had his wife and his mistress there” lifting my head up “we will keep you updated on that story” my dad turned the TV off “I wish you did that beforehand” I breathed out “if I hear the word mistress, I will murder Maurice!” my dad shouted.

I used a different entrance to get inside the hospital, I didn’t ask for no Jay I need Maurice to get out of the bed and sort this out. The only reason I don’t go this way is because it’s alike an extra five minute walk to get there, it’s easier going through the main entrance. This is just getting sickening, I don’t like this. My face being shown to the word like that, all I am saying is everyone is a snake as soon as Marquis and Maurice both got ill, it’s like they kept shit at bay and now everything is coming out. Pushing open the door, I didn’t bother to knock but I wish I did. Maurice’ mom, sister, lawyer and another female “Robyn” Maurice shifted up on the bed, his excitement made me happy that I couldn’t help but smiling back at him “hi” I said sheepish “where is Reign?” he looked behind me as I closed the door “with my parents, it’s best that way” I feel awkward now “is this the girl?” the unknown female, she looks like Joy anyways “yes auntie it is, this is Robyn. This is who I want to be with, she is the one that saved me” Maurice spoke up, Nalah hugged me “nice to see you, I have been trying to talk to him about the things going on and he said he wants you here. You was telling him, Wade wanted to see him” that is the man I love.

Maurice’ mom, sister and auntie left, Wade stayed behind for what ever reason. The awkwardness left the room anyways, I know Joy is trying to see my daughter but no “why are you still here?” Maurice said to him “because we have business to deal with but Robyn, you have things you want to speak about” walking over to the bed, I don’t care if Wade is here “how you been? Miss me?” I asked him “you have lost weight” placing my hands at the side of his face “I missed you a lot, I woke up with nobody here. I haven’t seen Shawn, where is he” pressing a kiss to his lips “I am not sure, he was here but as soon as you was ok he left. I don’t know where he went” Wade cleared his throat “if you can give Robyn and I like ten minutes, then you can come back. Buy a me a drink too” Maurice held my hand which stopped me from walking back to my seat “fine, I will be back. Would you like a drink?” he asked me “it’s fine” smiling at him “sit on the bed, like here on the edge. Don’t sit far” shaking my head “I really can’t, I am supposed to be resting my stitches still. I will stand here” the door closed “ok, I wanted to say I am sorry and also thank you for saving me. I just hear it from everyone, they all taking about it. She saved your life, I am just speechless. I woke up and I was brushing things off but at that moment you do, I was scared. Maybe I was stuck in a dream” that word dream “you was in my dream that night” I interrupted him “what do you mean?” I hate speaking on it “I was asleep, but it felt so real. You was there, you was telling me you was free. You loved me, you called me Bonita and you walked off. I reached out to you but my hand went through you. I woke up and it was a wake up call. You died on me, in that moment I treated you like I would anyone coming into the hospital I had too, but I gave it more. Every strength in me, I broke down crying after. You was gone, you left me” Maurice put his head down.

“I don’t think Malik was really paying attention, I was in a state. Like my breathing was going. I was losing oxygen and I could feel it, little breath’s but it was too late. I went. I was in so much pain that going in that state was better but I didn’t tell you that. I was declining rapidly” I hate hearing this “he called me that night, and took his mother off and put you on as power over his life. It was late, he said that to me. I was like I haven’t met this woman, are you sure? And then I hear this” Wade came back quick. here I go crying “why didn’t you tell me? I was there, right there and you didn’t say it?” this what angers me “you just had the worst birth ever, I didn’t want to burden anyone” shaking my head as tears fell “burden me, why do that to me. You know how much shit I have been through, ask him” I pointed at Wade “I had to meet your family, seeing these guys in suits saying is this what will killed him off, I had to beg Damon to help me. He got me there with you, then I had an argument with Kellen. Malik got blamed for you, he didn’t even do shit. Kellen was counting on you dying, you’re dad calling me a mistress, disrespecting me in front of my family. Then he had a heart attack outside the waiting room, Shawn punched Kellen because he called me the secret bitch. Now I am on the blogs looking like a bitch, they out there attacking me. I am the bitch that sought you out, I got pregnant on purpose. My face is everywhere and Naomi looking innocent as fuck. Now I am on Access Hollywood, everyone disrespecting me. Getting my family involved, I don’t feel safe anymore. I look like the bitch that stole you away from Naomi” Maurice’ mouth fell open, he stared at me in terror.

He didn’t expect what I have just said to him “someone has also taken a picture of you in this bed asleep, it’s on the blogs. What Robyn has said is true” Maurice looks extra stressed and I feel bad now “who exposed Robyn, Wade? What is my publicist doing, what is she doing?” Maurice said to Wade “we got word of TMZ and we did allow it to go through but it was nothing about Robyn, on the paperwork it was about you. To say you’re ok, everything that was put on there was not by me on the team” Maurice let my hand go “Wade, give me your phone. I need you to remove Robyn’ face off the internet, sue any blog, TV that uses it. They have to blur her face out. I want you, come here” Wade got his phone out from his side pocket “here” Wade held his phone out to him, Maurice gripped his tie on his suit “Maurice!” I spat “you fucking find out who has been talking about me Wade! You earn your fucking stay, you should have done this without me instead of sitting fucking back, you get that bitch publicist and you tell her do her fucking job! You fucking use that phone and find out” Maurice pushed him back “creasing up my shirt, thank you” Wade fixed his tie “I can do that, you need to clear her name. Once you finished peeing in the bag that is, I have your best interest so please. I do have a feeling on who it is anyways, I think I lost count on who. Your whole family but I will proceed with that. Shawn is in New York, you gave him that power. He is dealing with Dubai, get better Maurice, and quick” Wade walked out.

Maurice is ever so quiet, it’s weird because he is thinking and plotting “is things still being said?” Maurice finally said something “yes” I said in a whisper “my dad is in hospital, he is too ill. Where is Malik, Robyn. I need you to get my phone, I’ve not seen him all day. I am looking after him. I am just working out who is doing this” I am not about to give his phone “no, you’re going to rest. I am going to get Jay here, you have him here with you. Someone is also taking pictures of you like this. Just relax please, your mind is working overtime and I understand but your health. For me, just relax ok? Let your lawyer do what he needs” Maurice punched the bed at the side of him “fuck!” I wanted him to know but I don’t like seeing him all angry “Maurice, listen to me. Once you are better we will come back bigger and better, I will never let you fall like this” he is devastated “I am so sorry Robyn, I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want you to be exposed in this way” Maurice is stressing and I feel so bad.

[queer-vampire]

sooooo what are your active WIPs? 👀

ok my guy you asked for it. also i miscounted originally, i have NINE WORKS IN PROGRESS

disclaimer: ALL CHARACTERS ARE BISEXUAL UNTIL STATED OTHERWISE (no one is straight)

Invictus

this is my firstborn. my child. my love. it started out as a mcu fanfic but holy shit it’s grown so much bigger than that. it’s about Lilith, my beloved vampire child, who lives her life trying to figure out who she is. she’s got her adopted brother, Jared, who is like her second half. her adopted sister Isabela who could care less about morality. then she’s got her closest friends: Maria (trans woman!) and Abraham Van Helsing (siblings), Mordecai (love interest), Moira, and Thomas Harker, Samson (Helaku) and Shaw (Waya) Harlow. there is SO much more but i have the other 7 to talk about lmao. i have a blog for the book series and have a pinterest board for the story (characters are separate on my account)

Under the Windy City

its my version of the YA genre. but the kids are actually in their 20s cause teens should NOT be doing these dangerous tasks. again its a hefty plot so i’ll keep it simple. its set in modern day. the only change is that natural disaster is closer than we predicted. three 20 somethings end up being experimented on to save their lives from terrible accidents. as a result, they are brought into a whole new underground world of scientists and activists trying to find ways for the human race to evolve and to save earth. there will be three sides: extremists (the first trio of the experiments but it went wrong), the middle (the scientists, activist, and our new main trio), and the deniers (your billionaires, your closed-minded christians, your climate change deniers, etc etc). the clock is ticking as natural disaster is on the rise and the trio must try and save humanity. yes, i have a pinterest board for the story (characters are separate on my account)

The supernatural trilogy: Dark to Light, Whose Woods These Are I Think I Know, and Reapers

yes, its a trilogy, but none of the books are connected by characters. its connected by the fact that its based in reality and follows detectives with a supernatural twist. 

Dark to Light follows a woman who is a detective and she has many psychic abilities such as speaking with the dead, sensing death, etc. 

WWTAITIK follows two retired detectives (who are also husband and wife) dragged back into the world as an old case of theirs comes back to haunt them. her deranged sister killed his younger sister just before killing herself. the sister confessed to all the serial killings they were following. but she also told everyone that the spirit told her to do it. after laying their family members to rest, the couple retired and moved north to remove themselves from society. now they work at a lumber company to get by. they also have to raise their niece that his sister left behind. after nearly 10 years, their old friend comes back with a case that mirrors the past case down to every detail. basically they gotta figure out wtf is going on and oh shit ghosts arent real, are they?

Reapers follows another married detective couple. she dies while getting to nosy on a large case. a year later she’s resurrected by a native american woman from legends ago. there is a whole cult of women resurrected to get vengeance on their killers. our main ch finds her husband again and the rest of the story follows this group taking on the case that killed our girl. its has deeper roots than they thought and opens up many other issues to follow. this book will be a big one with two volumes. this book could be two books easily but i gotta keep it a trilogy so...

If I Should Die and What Lies Underneath

this one is my second child. ive had it for a while now. 

the plot of both follows a woman (young adult in the first book) as her niece goes missing and she goes on a suicidal mission to try and get her back. the first book ends without a happy ending. the second book takes place almost 20 years later and our girl is a detective (she now works with the detectives that worked on her case and helped her do some illegal shit). we find out who took her niece, but it isn’t a fun reveal. this is so vague but i feel like this covers it fairly well. holy shit i keep forgetting i dont have a pinterest board for this story ahhh

Blood on These Hands

a new baby. the newest. i got inspired by mudbound (2017). it follows a woman returning back from WWII after getting the highest honor and getting honorably discharged in early 1945. she served with both the soviets and the usa. instead of returning to her home state, she fulfills a promise she made to a close friend from the war. she moves down south to work for his family. she deals with sexism, racism in the eyes of a white women and how sometimes her helping actually harms, and all the psychological effects of war and childhood trauma. this pinterest board was easy to make since i knew exactly what the aesthetic would be

Untitled work

another new baby. this one was actually a dream i had. the dream came in two parts, and im unsure about the second part so idk if that will make a 10th work in progress or not. 

this one also follows a woman returning home from the iraq war. she ends up having to take care of the family cabin so she decides to just move in. the town is small so word travels fast. and since she’s had a rough past, the town still whispers about her. for work, her adopted sister and the sisters girlfriend open up a center for women, kids, mentally ill, lgbtq, victims of systematic or direct racism, and all abuse victims to come and get help and shelter. most of the townsfolk dont like it so the conflict is trying to keep the shelter alive and growing. our main ch also connects with an old childhood friend. his family cabin is across from hers, and she finds out quickly that hes not really there by choice. with trying to keep the shelter alive, she also tries to help her childhood friend get out under his fathers abusive ruling. and yes you bet your ass i have a pinterest board

and there you have it! all my active WIPs. will you be able to read any of these soon? i can say with complete honesty: no. will you ever be able to read any of these? i have no fucking clue. one thing is for certain: Invictus will get done no matter what. if it kills me, thats how i want to go. everyone needs to experience that book series otherwise i might go insane. @sweetstilesofmine (and by default my sis @p-rincesskaguya) dont hear the end of my rants about invictus. so they might lose their minds if i dont publish it either. 

anyway i hope you enjoyed this and yes PLEASE ask me specifics if you want to know more! i’ll never shut up about them so if you’re willing to give an ear, i’ll scream.

(also idk if i need to do this, but uh, don’t fucking steal these ideas or titles. this shit is MINE and let it be known that i CLAIM IT)

[themariotheme]

okay i am Not Having  A Good Time Right Now not BAD but just... weird not as in “weird” like how i say when im actually depressed this is a different weird it’s just incomprehensible and i feel very annoying to everyone especially on my stupid twitter so i shall be spewing garbage here so

okay so right now i feel like the world is horrible and like i could never be happy in it but im not depressed abt it im just numb so im not upset about how capitalism means there are people dying and everything is bad but i need u to know that i AM upset about it actually isnt it weird ?? i need to make sure that it is understood that these things upset me but like, not right now. is that just me being defensive because ive always felt like i need to justify feeling my feelings like i KNOW other people have it worse i KNOW im a privileged upper middle class chinese girl who has Had Everything okay i KNOW i just

i dont know

 am literally rotting and being useless all the time at home because im not in school im literally doing nothing im doing nothing all day im doing nothing im useless im just on this earth consuming and using up my parent’s money and contributing to climate change by having my air conditioning on even though i know individuals aren’t to blame for the climate crisis it’s companies and billionaires who suck Major Ass!!! u see how i have to justify but then also justify?? i am simply like this with Everything it’s so exhausting and i kind of want to cry now

like i Know individuals aren’t to blame for the climate crisis. artists arent selfish for making art how could i think i that???? i DONT think that i wouldnt look at someone who has their air conditioning on all day and think badly of them, i wouldnt look at artists and think “ugh what a selfish piece of shit, how could they look at the state of the world and choose to make silly art when  they could be a doctor or journalist or politician or ANYTHING that would Help People” BUT WHY DOES THAT NOT APPLY TO ME ???? WHY DO I STILL HAVE TO FEEEL LOUSY ABOUT IT ?? I FEEL SO STUPID im literally just ?? arguing with myself in my head but it ends up leading nowhere i just cant not feel terrible and guilty about everything i do

whatever. i dont know

okay but right so for the past 2 weeks that i was gone from tumblr because staff are PUSSIES who SNIPED me for NO REASON and then didnt reply to my emails i was mostly on twitter because i m useless n Do Nothing At All with my time so im on twitter because im lonely and crave interpersonal connections so i tried to make friends which i did ! i think i have had some success at least in making friends online . i think i can say that maybe perhaps for sure (maybe). but yes i have made some friends on twitter i think evie and maya and noga r great and i love them this is not th point sigh

okay im just going to explain the Nonsense Teenage Drama that went down and i will be (maybe) just namedropping cause none of them r even names anyway it doesnt matter actually

but i just need to feel like ??? im not insane and overreacting to this entire thing which like some ppl have confirmed !! and yet (??)

okay tw for suicide ed self harm n bullying cause i ended up ranting abt those things :(

SO. this Person C got into some. drama with M and J. this is all friendship related i think personally C is in the wrong and M and J have the right to be mad at them for it. BUT C was also very obviously suicidal in the “i am crying out for help and attention right now” kind of way . maybe i am just sympathetic because i have been that before idk. but drama unleashed, M and J publicly got into it with C. right so everyone witnesses this. including Person D. THIS PERSON. has TIME AND TIME AGAIN shown themsevles to be terrible terrible u know what idc im just gonna copy and paste screenshots idc idc idc AAAAAA im so djfdskmg idk

like ??? THIS WASNT IDK I DONT KNOW . i dnt know i dont know i AM over this but i had a panic attack over this and i was in a depressive episdode this was 3 days of hell and it didnt even involve me ??? the most i was involved w was like being personally offended because her friends called me a bitch or whatever but like ?? there r some of her friends who r friends w my friends and it makes me feel like idk :( like why do mar n mia hate me lol am i so terrible for thinking she should go get help for her ed isntead of telling ppl to slit their wrists n off themselves online lol idk idk idk yeah okay

like i feel like im overreacting , and taking personal offense to being called a bitch because i did end up calling her out in a very long series of tweets lol and like ?? someone would screenshot my tweets n she’d tweet abt them n say im obsessed n her friends would like her tweet and those ppl would be friends w my friends :( idk i feel like im just being a fool and over reacting idk sigh this is old news by now i am actually in fact Truly over this /gen but yea my cramps r bad today fuck periods we shld just reabsorb uterine linings like rats do why cant we be more like rats

/rant

my tweets for context idk i know no one will read this all but i feel the need to make myself clear because god knows fucking why idk idk idk 

https://twitter.com/urlowbeams/status/1364932184629338122?s=20

https://twitter.com/urlowbeams/status/1364928910916378634?s=20

https://twitter.com/urlowbeams/status/1364729355448983552?s=20

and scroll down from there i guess

man i was rlly going thru it huh

idk ALSO she like ?? said “if ur ugly u should die i cant breathe the same air as u” in response to someone’s selfies like ?? idk man idk idkdikddnfjfdnsjgdj im going to sleep night night im not losing my mind i swear /gen

[hellyeahrpmemes]

※ JENNA MARBLES SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. VI ※

here’s sentences from 10 more of jenna’s videos! feel free to change names/pronouns/zodiac signs/etc.! more jenna sentences

REVIEWING BAD APPS 3

“All I did was download them and giggle.”

“What I like about this game is that there’s a lot of depth to it.”

“No, you’re dead.”

“I’m out, I’m out, I’m out.”

“I love how all of this works.”

“This is too stressful.”

“I’m over it, nope, I’m done.”

“I wouldn’t get you that for a ring. That’s an ugly ass ring.”

“This is getting dark.”

“It won’t let you say no!”

“It costs 99 cents to figure out how to build sexual tension.”

“Don’t talk about your problems, you fucking slouch.”

“I paid 99 cents for that.”

“Excuse me, I’m learning here.”

“I paid 99 cents so you knew how to get sex.”

“Ew, this is nasty.”

“This whole thing is extra.”

“She’s not having it, this is wrong.”

“Oh my god, this is so uncomfortable.”

“I’m learning so much today.”

“Is he asleep?”

“I have glasses, I can’t.”

“Oh my god, it’s real.”

“If you’re in the car with your parents, this is infuriating.”

“Yo, Uber, pass me the aux cord.”

“That was 99/10. That was a great app.”

“How to get unfriended in one day.”

“This app fucking rules.”

“It’s kinda relaxing.”

“Okay, can we give this a rest, now?”

“You paid for this.”

“This is pretty fun.”

“Oh my god, I want to die.”

“As angry as it makes me sometimes, I do like it.”

MY BOYFRIEND DOES MY VOICEOVER

“Please don’t listen to anything he says, it’s all garbage. It’s all lies and garbage.”

“You can eat the ball of foam when you’re done.”

“There’s no calories, so it’s good.”

“This works if you put it directly in your eye for enhanced night vision.”

“I prefer a Sharpie, but we were out of Sharpies, so I used makeup.”

“I think it’s working. I kinda wish it would just be done.”

“Are we done with the eyebrows yet?”

“This is art, people.”

“I’m doing the underneath part, which is getting dangerously close to my eyeballs.”

“If you were a really bad kid and you always drew on tablecloths, you’re gonna be really good at this.”

“Oh, I hate this part.”

“We are literally making up our eyeball.”

“This is easily the worst thing ever in the world.”

“Look how messy I am.”

“I wanna kiss myself.”

“The word contour comes from an ancient myth about centaurs.”

“We can fool people.”

“Makeup is a good, deceitful trick, people.”

“Okay, so now I have some cheese.”

“Shut up…!”

“I hate this.”

“I think we’re highlighting.”

“This is only available in Ukraine, and I flew there once to get it.”

“This is a great way to cool off.”

“Oh, okay, that’s it. Thank you guys, bye.”

THOUGHTS FROM A COUCH

“I wanna lay on my couch in this blanket.”

“Repeat after me. The president is not my daddy. He cannot just spank me whenever he feels like it.”

“I think we need to abandon this mission to Mars business. It’s been a long time, and it’s not gonna happen.”

“I say we start terraforming Saturn.”

“When you look up in the sky, you can see rings. Tight.”

“If everybody donated the ends of their loaves of bread a week, we could feed a lot of hungry people. Especially if they’re hungry for shitty sandwiches.”

“You asked for this.”

“Maybe a simple solution is don’t get your news from Facebook.”

“I know what billionaires want, and it’s Tom.”

“I think the punishment for mistreating animals should be being thrown into a pit of gorillas.”

“Too soon? Too late.”

“We could get rid of rush hour by making half the population nocturnal. Half the people work regular hours, half the people work Batman hours.”

“What is armpit hair for? What is it for?”

“Think about that. That’s an impressive statistic.”

“Drums should be called bangs, and bangs should be called regret.”

“Why does the government get to tell me how many dogs I’m allowed to have?”

“Do I look like someone who lies?”

MY DOGS’ WEDDING

“Today seems like the perfect day to just bring everybody together with some love.”

“We need some love right now.”

“I mean, that’s pretty, right?”

“I’m not here to judge them.”

“Time is of the essence.”

“It just feels like the right thing to do.”

“I mean, this is looking pretty dope.”

“Wow, you look fucking nice.”

“It’s not very good, but I do know the basics of it.”

“I mean, it’s pretty cute.”

“I’m hoping that it looks right.”

“Today’s the day, baby girl. You’re getting married.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You’re gonna remember today forever. Or you might forget it. But it’s important.”

“I know, you’re so excited.”

“Wow, you did it.”

“I’m so excited for you.”

“I mean, that’s really it.”

“This is what I did with my time today.”

P*SSY GRABBING SELF DEFENSE

“Even if he doesn’t become president, he could still grab me by my pussy.”

“I think the fuck not!”

“Is this what you wanted?”

“I don’t like this at all, why did I do this?”

“I regret all of this.”

“You didn’t think it all the way through, did you?”

“Fuck off.”

“Was it stupid? Yeah. Do I care? No.”

WE GOT IN A CAR ACCIDENT, WE ARE OKAY

“We are okay, everything is fine.”

“This is all I can do.”

“It’s scary, it’s not fun, and the last couple of days have been miserable.”

“I already don’t like flying.”

“Can’t think about that stuff… trying not to.”

“Let me set the scene for you, okay?”

“The first thing I remember is I heard him yell.”

“We couldn’t breathe — it’s like getting the wind knocked out of you, but it’s like your neck and your head and your brain.”

“I started to lose consciousness.”

“It could’ve been far worse than it was.”

“You know I don’t like needles.”

“Oh, sick, fuckin’ tight, hell yeah.”

“I will probably start crying. Worst case scenario, I might pass out.”

“I’m already having the worst time ever.”

“Wait, you have bruising from the IV?”

“The pain isn’t the worst ever.”

“This is some ultimate universe fuck shit.”

“A really fun thing to do after a car accident is get in a car.”

“All of a sudden, we’re driving through a police shootout.”

“Is this day done yet, fuck?”

PRANK CALLING IN SICK FROM JOBS I DON’T HAVE 2

“Although I’m not seeking validation, I am a human being, and I have feelings.”

“Just come to the desert, please.”

“I know it’s gonna be a really rough day tomorrow.”

“It was just too much, man.”

“I don’t feel good already.”

“I’m so sorry, I won’t see you tomorrow.”

“I hate myself already.”

“I forgot how guilty this makes me feel.”

“Apparently, you can’t drive your Porsche through a river.”

“What’s gonna happen?”

“I’m gonna go under anesthesia, I’m not gonna remember anything.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“I would just die laughing.”

“Hopefully, we’ll never do this again.”

“I literally was told that I was in seventh grade today.”

SHAVING MY EYEBROWS

“I think a lot of people think I was joking.”

“Is Jenna okay? Is she losing her mind?”

“Everyone thought I was going full Britney Spears.”

“Life’s too short not to have really exciting hair.”

“They grow back really fast.”

“Also, they’re mine, not yours.”

“Let’s just get into it.”

“Pray for me.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“How is it a bloodbath?”

“Ooh, did I cut myself?”

“You know, you’re really supportive and wonderful, have I ever told you that?”

“Julien, I love you so much, thank you for not judging me.”

“Don’t smile like that.”

“Don’t do that.”

“It’s not even that abnormal-looking.”

“I did not think I was gonna be this excited.”

“Here, let me do it.”

“I don’t know if I trust you to shave my face.”

“No, no, no, I don’t trust you.”

“It feels so good, though.”

“Alright, I think I’m done.”

“I think it looks sick.”

“Julien, you don’t like that?”

“I feel like I would be so fast if I went swimming right now.”

“I’m gonna rock your look.”

“Just come touch it.”

“I think it looks natural.”

“We don’t have anything important coming up, do we?”

“I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Like, yeah, it doesn’t look natural, but has anything about me ever looked natural?”

“Now I just look like a different type of asshole.”

“Don’t I look like that someone that wants to party right now?”

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”

“This is honestly the most fun I’ve had with makeup probably my entire life.”

“I mean, I don’t hate it. It’s a look.”

“I fuckin’ hate you.”

“This is not what I asked for.”

“That’s dope as fuck, oh my god.”

“Congrats on your freedom.”

“You know what? I’m so glad that I did this.”

“I’m living my best life.”

MY BOYFRIEND DOES MY NAILS

“She is an incredible Internet goddess.”

“She is the Internet I signed up for.”

“In this month alone, I have been nail-shamed so many times.”

“There are people like that in the world, they’re so obnoxious.”

“Get out of our house.”

“I’m sorry, is that an opinion?”

“Just trust the process, okay?”

“But it looks good…!”

“Oh my goodness, it’s stunning.”

“That looks like shit, you didn’t even try…!”

“I’m laughing at you. I’m laughing directly at you.”

“That’s literally not even my job.”

“Oh, that is my job.”

“Don’t knock this over. If this gets all over the floor, we’re never getting our security deposit back, ever.”

“You’re making a mess.”

“That doesn’t look good, dawg.”

“That’s exactly what I was doing.”

“It went from good to really bad.”

“I mean, that’s really not the worst.”

“That glitter really saves everything.”

“If you’re confident that it’s dry, put it in your mouth.”

“How the fuck did you guess that already?”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.”

“I love being called ma’am. I want to exclusively be called ma’am.”

HELLO YOUNG PEOPLE, IT’S HILLARY CLINTON AGAIN

“It’s me again, ya girl, Hill-Daddy.”

“I need you to get out there and vote.”

“I will be the dankest, dopest, bombest president the world has ever seen.”

“Our common thread doesn’t stop there.”

“In here, we’re exactly the same.”

“It’s just a relaxing thing I like to do in my free time.”

“I know where we are, do you think I give a fuck?”

“You just deleted the entire hard drive.”

“My favorite thing to do is faceswap with myself.”

“What the fuck is this?”

“I’m not even connected to the Internet.”

“Is that an ad? This is a DVD.”

“How did you even get in here?”

“It’s my turn…! It’s my turn!”

[saintorr]

Gentrification Genocide

(Four sketches)

c. 2017 by Steven Orr

 I.  Having survived AIDS, a gay-bashing, 9-11, Sandy and an endless stream of queens posing as no-show clients, I wonder if this latest wave of too-close-for-comfort gentrification will be my own, personal, genocidal Swan Song? Tonight, while riding my bike like the crazed, clowning pterodactyl, I found myself breathily imitating a very feminized bicycle bell. “Ding-ding” one moment; and the next, I’m screaming like a wolf-crazed banshee as I fly past a very proper, chic and rich-looking woman, giving her quite a start! Indignantly, she screams “Oh my God!” in a belting, masculine voice tinged with a Valley-girl accent. This happens just off 7th Street and First Avenue and I pedal on gleefully, half ashamed for my acting out; and half empowered and self-congratulatory for my anarchistic tendencies, praying and hoping that maybe, just maybe this entitled-acting cannibal is one of the new billionaire zombies inhabiting the crystal cardboard and obtuse glass towers on the eastside of Avenue A between 6th and 7th; or the newly renovated Shul four doors west of my man cave. Oh, you know, that confusing condo/synagogue, half place of worship, half billionaire-broken-hearted-haunt of the ghost of the big Rabbi with the swarmy, philandering son, also named Sandy; the one who finagled, then sold off the temple’s rights for close to a billion dollars.

 II. In the morning, do not fear, I tell myself, for those monstrous explosions are merely the renovation of De Maria’s former studio, semi-formerly a Con-Ed substation; now currently being magically transformed into the billionaire Brant’s private museum. Ordinary neighborhood citizens will not be allowed access to the beatific garden growing between 421 E. 6th St., and cutting straight through to 7th Street, like a slender, cold, fish knife slices through a babe’s beating heart, nor will they be allowed into the private storage space where priceless, insipid and modern works of art will be stored and kept; available only for private viewing to the coterie of fellow billionaires, stars and their kingly cronies. Cannibalize yourselves, you lowly 99%, suffer the noise! Let the new money frighten away the former spirit guides and the friendly semi-wild gypsy cats that once played and sang and danced in between these dishwater-lit toy tenements of beer and dreams and young strains of songwriters’ guitars and falling in love with the moonbeam dreams of East Village hungry-hearts and shadowy leather lovers; for the new owners of this house of bomb-sounding billions was seeking a location and tax-write off in an edgy, creative neighborhood, so here we are! He sought to color his taste in architecture with the pronoun “creative”. Oh you poor 99%, you starving nothings. Yes, you may die of construction noise, dust, and fumes; and you may have to walk around the red-velvet ropes when the chic parties begin and the drones and helicopters start landing and the limousines begin pulling up with their stars with their even more glamorous billions but oh now look how your property values are increasing! With every chiseled BOOM of detaching chards and jagged, dusty bricks the work crew of flying monkeys flings into the the BOOMING maw of the dumpster from hell; comes the skeletal, fire-cracking, whacking-snapping chorus of never-ending jackhammers (often five at once), for this is a war of money over time, fought, won and played out by short trollish billionaires with crooked smiles. For WE THE PEOPLE--are irrelevant and WE THE PEOPLE are little better than charming old engines, White slave labor, memories of America’s fragmented, shrunken middle class, now addicted to crack, Walmart, Nikes and Disney digital dreams of “Searching for Dory”. WE THE PEOPLE, better forgotten, better disposed of, better buried by Trump, so the young, rich litters of billionaire spawn can play here anew, can fling themselves into their endless selfie-cesspools of Chai lattes tropical banana and protein powder smoothies, funny, arthritic, black French bulldogs named Lucy and lovely, decadent, divinely narcissistic empty and burning consumeristic dreams of pretension and nothingness.

 III.  As a matter of fact, Medicaid was specifically created to hasten us to an early grave; Those of us that weren’t exterminated by the first, or 2nd waves of gentrification genocide. Someone said “We don’t know how good we have it.” “We don’t’ know how good we have it” I repeat as I am having a nervous breakdown trying to make an appointment, trying to get a referral from my (formerly caring) community healthcare clinic where now only Trans-people matter; for, besides the billionaires, THEY are also the new masters of the New York human race; everyone else is basically irrelevant. I’m trying to make an appointment for this back pain that’s made every other step excruciating for three months now, (all through the holidays; the wine helped, sometimes the sex). “No, Goddammit I don’t NEED ESTROGEN! FUCK YOUR ESTROGEN AND YOUR PHONE MENU AND YOUR INSTRUCTIONS TO CALL 9-1-1 IF THIS IS A MEDICAL EMERGENCY!” One of the patient associates handling referrals starts quoting policies to me, a vicious little queen with bitchy glee touting too-fast, meaningless and bureaucratic buzzwords at me like he’s throwing cream pies in my face. The next confusing day (nervous breakdown number two due to my continuing efforts to seek relief from this nagging pain), I am contacted by a manager named Stephanie (what sex is she? Dare I ask and be reported for inappropriate behavioral tendencies?). With balls of steel she attacks and berates me for my wholly unfriendly, overtly hostile and indeed homophobic language (referring to the “mean queen” of yesterday’s nervous breakdown).  “This is Callen Lorde” she proclaims, like a punitive, belittling, parole officer or a sexless, dominatrix cop, “You should know better!” Her rawhided, delivery strips me bare and exposes me for all my vulnerable, bisexual silliness and tendencies toward anarchistic prostitution and polymorphously, pleasure-seeking perversity that I am; for all that I inhabit and display, for this is the magical stuff that makes me me! I have an allergy to anything that coldly ignores and debases men only for being men. Why do some females act like raging amazon warriors slicing through the air, their angry clitorises waving like sharpened dragon’s teeth; so ready with a threat or an admonishment in response to any miniscule drop of incorrect language that happens to ejaculate casually from an innocent man’s mouth merely for the sake of jest…

 IV.  Once upon a time, there was a neighbor non-friend of mine, a sexless tomboy with frigid, uptight boundaries who had a talent for making me feel as warm and welcomed as a serial killer rapist. “Don’t nag me” she asserted testily at the coop board meeting one Saturday afternoon, and with jerking movement of her dry, tendinous and over-vascularized torso, SLAM CRASH, the mirror behind her slides off the wall, and onto the floor. Everyone jumps “There, you see?” I intone, smiling like Joan Crawford as Crystal in “The Women”, “That’s what you get for attacking me.”

[saintorr]

“Gentrification Genocide” Four scenes

c. 2017 by Steven Orr

 I.  Having survived AIDS, a gay-bashing, 9-11, Sandy and an endless stream of trickster, horny-queens posing as no-show clients, I reflect; will this latest wave of too-close-for-comfort gentrification be my own, personal, genocidal Swan Song? Tonight, while riding my bike like a crazed, clowning pterodactyl, I found myself breathily imitating the sound of a very feminized bicycle bell. “Ding-ding” one moment, and the next, screaming like a crazed banshee at a female pedestrian dressed in black as she is mindlessly stepping directly into my on-coming path. My crazed battle-cry makes her stop bunglingly in her tracks; her oral addiction to her mobile device unforgivingly interrupted. Indignantly, she screams “Oh my God!” in a belting, bleating voice tinged with a Valley-girl accent. This happens just off 7th Street and First Avenue. I pedal on gleefully, half ashamed for my acting out, and half empowered and self-congratulatory for my anarchistic, bad-boy tendencies. I’m hoping and praying that maybe, said jay-walker is one of the new billionaire zombies inhabiting the crystal cardboard and colorless tag-team duo of buildings that went on the market last fall. They are located on Avenue A between 6th and 7th Streets; or perhaps she's a new resident of the renovated and reconverted Shul just four doors west of my man cave. Oh, you know, that confusing condo-synagogue; that half place-of-worship, half billionaire-broken-hearted-haunt of the ghost of the big Rabbi who is survived by his swarmy, conniving, snake-eyed son, also named Sandy.

 II. In the morning, do not fear, I tell myself, for those monstrous explosions are merely the renovation of the deceased artist De Maria’s former studio. Formerly a Con-Ed substation, the building is currently being magically and noisily transformed into a private museum for one Mr. Brant, the new billionaire owner. Ordinary neighborhood citizens will not be allowed access to the beatific garden growing between 421 East 6th Street, and cutting straight through to East 7th, like a slender, cold, fish knife slicing through a newborn babe’s beating heart, nor will they be allowed into the private storage space where priceless, modern (and most-likely insipid) works of art will be hidden away. Here will be housed Brant’s sacred treasures of the inner sanctum; here in this great, tall, glass-walled chapel of a structure, art will dwell. Rich man’s art, available only for private viewing to the coterie of fellow billionaires, stars and their kingly cronies. Cannibalize yourselves, you lowly 99%, suffer the noise! Let the new money frighten away the former spirit guides and the friendly semi-wild gypsy cats that once played, sang and danced along and in between these semi-lit row houses of tenements, filled with the ghosts of beer and dreams and young strains of fading songwriters’ guitars and falling-in-love-with-the-moonbeam-dreams and rainy-days-and-Sundays of East Village hungry-hearts and shadow leather lovers. Monsieur Brant wanted a location and tax-write off that was “creative”, so here we are! Oh you poor 99%, you starving nothings, yes, you may die of noise, entitlement and achingly tight assholeism when the chic parties start and the drones and the helicopters and the limousines start arriving with darling, parasitic models and the zombie-hungry, spoiled-cool, hipster billionaires and their cold, cold parents but oh! Just look how your property values are increasing! With every chiseled BOOM BOOM of chards detaching and jagged, dusty, broken bricks flinging, the work crew of flying monkeys is tossing all, all into the the BOOMING maw of the dumpster from hell (it must be half a block wide). Then comes the skeletal, fire-cracking, whacking-snapping chorus of never-ending jackhammers (often five at once), for this is a war of money over time, fought, won and played out by short, trollish billionaires with crooked smiles and hawk-like noses. For WE THE PEOPLE are obsolete and irrelevant; WE THE PEOPLE are little better than charming old engines, White slave labor, memories of America’s fragmented, shrunken middle class; now addicted to crack, Walmart, Nikes and digitized Disney dreams of “Searching for Dory”. WE THE PEOPLE, better forgotten, better disposed of, better buried by the Trumps, so the young, rich litters of billionaire spawn can play here anew, can fling themselves into their endless selfie-cesspools of Chai lattes, tropical banana and protein powder smoothies, funny French black bulldogs named Lucy and lovely, decadent, divinely narcissistic empty and burning consumeristic dreams of pretension and nothingness. In short, WE THE PEOPLE are poor, inconsequential, invisible and don’t matter anymore.

 III.  As a matter of fact, Medicaid was specifically created to hasten us to an early grave. Those of us that weren’t exterminated by the first or second waves of gentrification genocide will surely spill into the trenches or be forced to emigrate now with this new third and biggest wave. Someone once said “We don’t know how good we have it.” “We don’t’ know how good we have it” I repeat as I am having a nervous breakdown trying to make an appointment, trying to get a referral from my (formerly organized, now Trans-dystopian) community healthcare clinic where only Trans people matter now; for, besides the billionaires, they are the new co-masters-of-the-race, everyone else is irrelevant. I’m trying to make an appointment,  

for this back pain’s made every other step excruciating for three months now, all through the holidays (the wine helped, sometimes the sex). “No, Goddammit I don’t NEED ESTROGEN! FUCK YOUR ESTROGEN AND YOUR PHONE MENU AND YOUR INSTRUCTIONS TO CALL 9-1-1 IF THIS IS A MEDICAL EMERGENCY!” One of the patient associates who handles referrals, Martino, a vicious, little queen with bitchy glee is quoting too-fast and meaningless policies at me like cream pies. The next confusing day (nervous breakdown number two due to my inane, continuing efforts to make an appointment for treatment of this seemingly endless back pain) I am connected with a manager named Stephanie. What sex is she I wonder? Dare I ask and be reported for inappropriate behavior? Stephanie pulls no punches and begins to attack and berate me for my wholly unfriendly, hostile and homophobic language, for I made the mistake of referring to the “mean queen” of yesterday’s quoting policies-to-me-episode.  “This is Callen Lorde” she proclaims, like a punitive, spayed, female, pit-bull cop, “You should know better!” Her rawhided, neuter, Bougie-Bitch delivery strips me bare, exposing me for all the bisexual silliness and tendencies toward anarchistic prostitution and polymorphously, pleasure-seeking perversity that I am; that I inhabit and display, for this is the magical stuff that makes me me. Imagine her, lambasting my essence! I have an allergy to anyone that coldly ignores and debases men only for being men. Why do some females act like raging amazon warriors slicing through the air, waving their clitorises like sharpened bayonets; so ready with a threat or an admonishment over any microscopic drop of incorrect language or innuendo that happens to ejaculate, albeit casually, from any MAN’S mouth merely for the sake of jest? For we all know men are not innocent; especially older white ones who protest the the stinging swipe of the feminist’s cattle prod. Still, I refuse to go gently into that “older-white-male-former-slave-owner’s-guilt-place night.”

 IV.  Once upon a time, there was a neighbor non-friend of mine, a sexless tomboy with frigid, uptight boundaries who had a talent for making me feel as warm and welcomed as a serial killer rapist. “Don’t nag me” she asserted testily at the coop board meeting, and with a jolt of movement from her dry, tendinous and over-vascularized body, SLAM CRASH! The mirror behind her slides off the wall, and onto the floor. Everyone jumps “There, you see” I intone, smiling like Joan Crawford as Crystal in “The Women”, “That’s what you get for attacking me.”